


Darkness Lives Here - Mini's

by skyjoos



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Age Regression/De-Aging, BDSM, Beating, Caning, Cock Cages, Daddy Kink, Ficlet Collection, Forced Daddy Kink, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Rape/Non-con Elements, S&M, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Sounding, Taking away powers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23678338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyjoos/pseuds/skyjoos
Summary: This is a collection of short ficlets similar in nature to my larger collection, Darkness Lives Here. These chapters are based on suggested prompts that did not warrant a full chapter.This is basically just a bunch of ficlets of hurt Peter. If whumps make you uncomfortable, this fic will not be for you.Follow the Darkness Lives Here Spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7CNUyU20FRNY65JeAYOCEo?si=0Ej4XL0sSc-vKpSJdIg0UwAdd me on Discord: skyjoos#4268
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 194





	1. Sex Slave!Peter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Darkness Lives Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287365) by [skyjoos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyjoos/pseuds/skyjoos). 



Peter shudders as another blow is dealt to his backside. The cane is easily the worst weapon Tony uses to beat him. It’s small and seemingly harmless, but the long stick can deal serious damage to Peter’s back and ass. He cringes as the pain rips through his upper left cheek and he can feel the warm rush of blood begin to prick at the wound. But the boy grits his teeth and tries to clean up his act in time to say,

“Th-thank you, Master.”

Tony never responds to Peter during beatings. It’s his way of showing how above it all he is. Tony deals the blows, while Peter’s left to apologize his way through a beating. Peter yelps when another strike slashes across his ass. But he stifles the tears and repeats it over,

“Thank you, Master!”

His pain is obvious just from his voice alone. But his bloody, welting, and blistering cheeks paint the picture all too clearly; Peter isn’t being beaten for no reason, he’s disobeyed, and gravely at that. The teen tried bribing his way out of the tower, the place he’s been forced to call home for six months. Peter got down on his knees to give a guard a blowjob if he’d let him out. The guard had already called Tony’s office the minute he saw Peter wandering on the security cams. But that didn’t stop him from receiving a free blowjob from the boy before Tony came back to collect his toy.

Peter screams outright as the fifty-sixth strike hits him. Tony’s been caning him for well over an hour now, drawing out each pause in between strikes to let Peter stew in the pain on his ass. But Peter knows better than to beg his master to stop, because if there’s one thing he’s learned in the months he’s been trapped here, it’s that Tony only likes his toys to beg when he tells them to. Any other form of begging just results in a harsher punishment. 

Peter makes sure to repeat his mantra before Tony lands the fifty-seventh strike, to which Peter repeats it again. Tony can beat the living shit out of him, but he’ll always remember the training he endured all those months ago. It took Peter two weeks to figure out he was expected to thank Tony after every punishment. In those two weeks, Peter endured the worst pain of his life. Except, of course, now.

Tony finally stops his assault at the sixtieth strike, which Peter hollers in sheer agony. The older, silent man walks up to his slave and gently taps the nape of his neck. Peter immediately spring upright, something he learned while he was trained, and kneels before Tony despite the incredible pain throughout his ass. The teen keeps his head down, knowing to never make eye contact.

Tony stomps his shoe on the floor, resulting in a roaring thud that echoes in the penthouse bedroom. Peter jumps but remains kneeling, although he almost falls back onto his ankles and loses his balance. Tony waits a few more batted breaths before speaking.

“Why did I discipline you?”

“Be-Because I disobeyed, Master,” Peter says.

Tony remains unemotional, detached and calculated. “And what did you do to earn the discipline?”

“I tried to run away,” Peter says, holding back tears as he realizes the severity of the situation.

Peter’s only ever tried to run away once, months ago when he was first bought by Tony. It didn’t end pretty, but Tony shared sympathy and only beat Peter with a bat and not the tire iron like he wanted. He made it very clear that was going to be his first and only act of kindness towards the boy. 

Peter gulps as he watches Tony’s feet walk across the room and behind him. He doesn’t dare turn his head, knowing it would only result in a slap from his master. He waits as Tony leans down in front of him, placing objects behind his back and out of Peter’s view.

“You’ve been disciplined. Now, you must be punished.”

Peter knows Tony’s outrageous idea of obedience. Tony disciplines first, which is usually a beating of some sort, and then punishes. The punishments can range from physical to sexual to emotional, it all depends on the severity of the offense. Tony produces the objects from behind him and sits them in front of Peter. A cock cage and a dildo. Peter’s eyes involuntarily widen at the side of the cage. He’s used to them by now, but he can’t stop staring at the narrow, long metal rod that splinters down the middle of the cage’s shaft. He’s going to be sound. Peter disregards the rules in sheer fear and panic.

“N-no, no! Please, Master. Please, I-I can’t, I’m sorry! Please don’t sound me, please!” Peter begs.

Peter receives a harsh slap from Tony. His cheek stings but it’s nothing compared to the pain he knows he’s about to feel from the cage. Tony uses his index and middle finger to usher the boy into a curled position, yet another one of the many things Peter’s been trained to do. Peter lurches forward and waits for Tony to easily insert the short dildo inside of him. He’s been raped anally for so long and hard that his ass is almost always ready to take a small object such as the dildo. 

Peter uncomfortably wiggles as the toy presses inside him. Tony grabs the cock cage and opens it using a small key. It unlocks and opens, leaving more than enough room for Peter’s tiny cock to be forced in and sealed. The older man carefully lines up Peter’s urethra to the sounding bar and slowly lodges the metal down the boy’s shaft. Peter cries in pain as his master pushes the bar all the way until the tip of his dick meets the cage’s top. He forces the boy’s balls in as well and locks the cage in place. 

Peter’s unnaturally still as the sound bar makes everything unbearably painful. He only notices Tony leaving the room when he suddenly feels the dildo coming to life, revealing it was a vibrator. Peter leans forward to feel the pleasure of the toy against his prostate but moans in pain when the motion pushes the sound bar deeper into his urethra. 

“M-Master! No!”

But it’s too late. Tony leaves and locks the door behind him, leaving a beaten, bloodied, and aroused Peter being constantly teased and tortured with no end in sight.


	2. "Parenting"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony really likes being Peter's "Dad."

“You ready for dinner, buddy?” Tony called from the kitchen.

Peter’s been sitting on his mentor’s couch for about an hour, channel surfing while he waits for dinner. Tony took him home from school today and asked him if he had time to eat dinner with him. Peter was quick to oblige seeing as Tony has been his mentor for almost a year now, and has been his hero since he was just eight. Peter turns his head in the direction of the billionaires' kitchen.

“Uh, yeah, Mr. Stark,” says the teen as he gets up from the couch and makes his way to the table.

Peter walks into the dining room and sits at one of the six large, chestnut chairs. Before him sits a pile of food; slow-roasted pork, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Peter smiles as his mentor rushes over with two plates and sits down directly next to Peter. He places his plate down for him and begins piling it on with food.

“Here ya go, kiddo. Gotta make sure you get lots of this. Pork, dairy, and veggies; good for the bones, ya know,” Tony says as he piles on the rest of Peter’s heaping of mashed potatoes.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark. It looks great,” says Peter.

Peter starts eating as soon as Tony’s done with fixing his plate. He eagerly chomps on the sliced piece of pork, digging his teeth into the savory meat. He doesn’t notice Tony watching until he’s almost done the entire serving of meat. Peter raises an eyebrow at his mentor.

“Uh … Mr. Stark? Are you okay?”

Tony suddenly shakes his head and smiles. He brushes the encounter off with a small shrug and begins eating from his own plate. Peter waits until he’s lost in the food to eat again. That reminds him of earlier that day when Tony was taking him home. Tony had pet his head, not in a demeaning or bullying way. In fact, it was gentle. Peter thought it was odd how long Tony let the touch last. It felt like minutes before he finally pulled away and returned both hands to the wheel. 

Peter got the same uneasy feeling he feels when there’s danger, his spider-sense. He’s been having small bouts of it every few minutes since Tony touched him in the car. But he pushes his sixth sense aside. _‘Mr. Stark’s almost like a dad to me. He wouldn’t hurt me. I must be getting sick.’_

The fifteen year old boy continues eating the rest of his giant heapings. He’s glad Tony piled so much on there or else he’d feel bad about having to ask for seconds or even thirds. Peter’s metabolism has been on hyperdrive ever since he was mutated. Now he needs to eat five thousand calories a day, all without gaining a single pound. But he figures Tony already knows that, considering he has taken multiple blood samples since his first day at the Avenger’s tower.

“So, Pete. How was school today?” Tony asks while chewing on a green bean.

Peter smiles once he’s finished swallowing a large spoonful of potatoes. He had a great day at school today and was almost wanting Tony to ask. He shovels another spoonful of potatoes on his spoon and erupts into talkative chatter. Tony smiles as Peter rambles on about his day at maximum speed.

“Oh, it was awesome, Mr. Stark. Me, Ned, and MJ, those are the friends I was telling you about, we had a project due at fifth period. But we totally forgot about it until, like, this morning. So we were totally freaking out about it because Mr. Kurlinson said it was, like, forty percent of our midterm grade. So Ned opens his laptop during breakfast and we just, like, blast through two weeks' worth of work. Which I know _sounds_ super boring but that’s not even the crazy part, Mr. Stark. We get finished with the project and meet at fifth period and Mr. Kurlinson’s all like, ‘I’m upset with you guys, only one group did the project.’ So apparently we were the only ones who did the project anyway so Mr. Kurlinson was all -”

Tony’s hand is on Peter’s head, petting him. Just like the car ride here. Peter’s spider-sense screams at him but he doesn’t understand why. It’s strange for Tony to cut him off like that but it’s only a touch, right? It’s not like he’s hurting him. It feels nice, it feels like any other pet would. Peter’s about to ask why Tony’s touching him when Tony speaks.

“My boy’s got such a big mouth. Huh, Pete?”

Peter’s stunned. He doesn’t speak until a moment passes. He clears his throat, eyes cast at the food on the table before him.

“Wh-What? Mr. Stark, I don’t … I don’t understand,” Peter mumbles.

“Oh, Pete. It’s nothing really. Just a dad loving his boy. Say, you’ve almost finished your meal. Saved some room for dessert, I hope,” Tony chuckles.

Peter’s senses are blaring, screaming at him as he watches Tony take his hand back and continue eating. His spider-sense is so loud it almost renders him speechless. Then suddenly, _silence._ Peter looks around. His ears feel clogged as if he had a bad head cold. His eyes blur like he’s going to cry but he isn’t sad. He blinks and blinks and _blinks_ but the blurred vision doesn’t go away. His spider senses stop altogether. He looks back at Tony who’s eating with the widest grin on his face.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter gulps back fear. “What’s going on?”

“No, Pete. Not Mr. Stark. Christ, no one even called my father Mr. Stark. Why be so formal with your dad?” Tony asks nonchalantly.

Peter shakes his head. Something is _very_ wrong. He looks at his mentor again and can only see his grin through the haze in his vision.

“You’re not … Not my dad,” Peter says.

Tony huffs and continues eating. Peter looks down at his almost finished plate and everything begins to click. Tony’s done something to his food to make him … _normal._ He doesn't have his great hearing or his perfect sight. He's back to hearing normally, needing glasses, and feeling overall helpless. He watches his mentor finish his plate and collect both of them from the table. He’s in the kitchen pulling out tubs of ice cream and Peter feels helpless. Just like he did when he was fully human. Before the spider bite. Before the Avengers. Before the Stark suit. Tony’s back in a few minutes with two bowls of ice cream and glides one bowl across the table to the teen.

“I know vanilla's your favorite. I know my son pretty well, I’d like to think so at least,” Tony says.

Peter’s fear suddenly turns to rage. Tony, the man he’s looked up to his entire life, has taken away his powers. Regardless of whether it’s temporary or not, that’s Peter’s entire point to life: He’s Spider-Man. It’s a part of him and Tony can’t just take it away.

“I’m _not_ your fucking son,” Peter spats.

“Peter Benjamin!” Tony roars. 

He’s loud, so loud. Peter doesn’t have his advanced hearing anymore but his tone and volume hurt his human ears. He cringes.

“I’m going home. Right now,” Peter tries to maintain his composer. “I don’t know if this is some kind of game or what, but I don’t want to be here anymore. I-I … I’m going home.”

Peter gets up from the table but the action makes him faint. He tries to push through the sudden fatigue but can’t. He falls to the floor, side crashing with the hardwood. He whimpers because it *really* hurts. He tries to scramble from the floor but his body is so weighted, so heavy. He closes his eyes for a second but when they open he sees Tony standing above him.

“You will _not_ curse in this house. Do you understand?”

Peter doesn’t reply, just groans at the pain and exhaustion.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Pete. I really am. But those little spider powers I gave you proved to be much too powerful for your own good. Besides, I’m not raising a little spider, I’m raising a little boy. Why have silly powers if you’ll never use them again?”

Peter groans. “I … What is _wrong_ with you? I-I …”

Tony’s leaning down now to face the teen. Peter’s vision is still blurred but due to Tony’s close proximity, he can make out the excited expression on his face. He whimpers again.

“Come on, Pete. Let Daddy fix you up. Maybe if you’re a good boy you can have ice cream tomorrow night.”

Peter wants to scream and run but his eyes droop so much they hurt so he closes them. It takes seconds for the teen to fall asleep. Tony scoops the boy up from the floor and heaves the boy up to the bedroom. Peter’s sleeping face presses against the older man’s chest, peaceful. It makes Tony grin just a bit wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an oldie from about 10 or so months ago. Edited here for your lovely pleasure. This was inspired by my age regression kink and I'm still pondering with the idea of writing a full length story including it. Let me know what you think (: And leave kudos.


	3. Furniture!Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes his slave Peter into his favorite piece of furniture.

Tony kicks him in the side when he sits down. It was entirely accidental but he knows the teen won’t speak, he’s been trained too well. Tony ignores his abuse and sits back on the couch, kicking his feet up on his boy’s naked back. How long has it been now? It can’t be more than eight months, but Peter’s proved to be a worthy pet. Of course, Tony would never say that to his face. 

His shoes dig into the teen’s back, he watches as they create red welts on his pale skin. Peter doesn’t say a word. It takes another hour or so into Tony’s program that he hears the child below him whimper. He kicks him, this time very intentionally. Peter gets the message and stops his complaining. 

Before Tony places his feet back on the teen’s back, he admires the now deeply red and irritated marks on his skin. Tony leans forward and runs his fingers along them, receiving another cry from Peter. He grips the younger’s hair and yanks. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Tony demands.

Peter gets the idea and stops anymore whining. Tony, now satisfied that his pet has stopped, goes back and relaxes on his couch. He perches his feet on top of Peter’s spine yet again, while the poor pet’s limbs shake and contract under the weight.

-

“No, slut. Arch your back. You were kneeling for only a few hours, you _will_ fucking ride me right,” Tony says.

Tony’s hand is placed firmly on the small of Peter’s back. He forces him to arch his back, causing a great sound of pain to escape the teen’s lips. Tony grunts and forces him down by his shoulders.

“You better not start crying, bitch.”

Peter doesn’t answer, knows he’s not supposed to. He just tries his best to arch his back and lower himself onto Tony’s half-erect member. But the pain in his back from kneeling for so long is too great. He falters again, this time his back gives out and sucks in a large gulp of air as the wind is knocked out of him. Tony only gets furious.

“You fucking slut,” the man yells. “Useless.”

He throws the young boy on the floor, his body heaving even more air in. Tony sneers at the child below him. Peter knows not to make eye contact, he remains quiet and readies himself for the blow.

“Present yourself,” Tony demands.

Peter knows what he’s about to. He wants to cry but can’t because that will only further complicate the issue. He obeys and kneels in front of his master, sitting on his legs with his arms folded behind his back which he tries to arch as much as possible despite the pain. His eyes are still cast towards the ground when Tony begins to speak.

“Stupid, useless pet. You are useless, you know that?”

The older man suddenly grips the teenager’s chin, tight and near bone-crushing. Peter’s jaw is now being forced shut by Tony, but he knows better than to try and speak. So, he nods his agreement to his master. Because he knows he’s useless, he’s been told far too many times how much he is. 

Tony hands leave the boy’s jaw and punch directly to Peter’s temple. Then he pulls them back and strikes his nose, lips, eyes, jaw, and a brisk kick to the stomach to make sure he gets the point across. When he leans away from the beaten boy, he sees how properly trained his pet really is. Peter’s still kneeling, despite tears running down his face and his eyes threatening to squeeze shut from how swollen they are. His lip has been busted and bleeds thick, red blood down his chin and neck. His nose isn’t twisted, not like the last time Tony had to teach him a quick lesson.

Tony, finished with punishing his toy, leaves the living room. He knows Peter will follow because that’s what he was trained to do. He isn’t surprised to turn around to shut his door to see a busted and broken and bleeding Peter staring up at the man on his hands and knees. Tony’s about to shut the door to his bedroom on his face when he spits on the child’s face before doing so. 

Peter stays outside the door. Spit, blood, and tears drip down his face and on his neck. But he knows not to leave. Tony will expect him there whenever he’s done. Peter just stares at the door and waits. Just like he was trained to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave kudos, comments, and please check out the larger short story collection! Also, feel free to leave ficlet suggestions for this work or for the larger work on either fic.


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